A Lost Legacy
by SciFiobsession
Summary: A forgotten Garde's story. Ten came to Earth in a different way. READ! :)
1. Chapter 1: A Lost Lagacy

A Lost Legacy

I am Number Ten. I was forgotten. No one has even the slightest remembrance of my existence. The Mogadorians had tested out a new skill. I was completely forgotten after I was taken from the ship that left Lorien. One extra Garde and a Cêpan had been put on that ship, whether by accident or not.

My Cêpan's name was Bentley. We had both been taken by the Mogadorians that day. We had placed in a prison and tortured. We had managed to escape after a month, and, using a ship that had been hidden as a last resort by the elders of Lorien, escaped the planet as well.

If you ask any other Cêpan or Garde, they will deny the existence of a tenth Garde. No one saw our ship leave or arrive anywhere, and no one would remember us from the first ship. This new skill of the Mogadorians was simply called _Obliviate_, as to the fact that it made you oblivious to whatever just occurred.

I was seven when we left, so I remember it fairly well. Bentley kept me safe best he could, and managed to get me to Earth. We landed somewhere in America, around Alaska.

We had almost nothing with us. The Loric Chest was all we could fit in our small ship. Bentley had purchased a laptop as soon as we landed, and had started work on an identity for me, and then on one for himself. He bought a house in the small, yet well known city of Juneau, Alaska, using some of the gems in the Loric Chest.

Not that long after we had finally settled into a somewhat normal life, One was killed. I had been outside with some other kids around my neighborhood, playing some game where you would have to run from spot to spot, without being tagged by someone. I fell to the ground instantly and started screaming. The scar seared itself into my flesh. I wrapped my hands around my ankle, and they began to burn as well.

Bentley had been standing on the porch of our blue, ranch style house, talking to the parents of the kids I was playing with. He jumped the railing, and threw the glass he had been drinking from against the siding. He ran across the lawn and fell down to my side. I held his hand until the pain lessened, and he helped me up from the ground.

He knew what was happening before I did. He told everyone that I might have broken my ankle, and that I'd have to go to the hospital.

We didn't go to the hospital, we went inside and packed. By three that afternoon, Bentley and I were in his car, leaving for who knows where.

"I'm sorry we have to leave everything behind." Bentley had said in his calm, sympathetic voice.

"What happened?" I asked, tracing my finger over the newly formed scar on my right ankle, wincing in pain as I did this.

"Number One was killed," He said blankly. "Somewhere, the Mogadorians found him."

I shivered as I heard the name. The Mogadorians were the ones who had captured us. "Bentley?" I had started hesitantly.

"Yes?" He asked looking at me with concern in his eyes.

"Why do we have to keep running?" I questioned, worry squeaking through my voice.

Bentley bit his lip before he explained the whole story of Lorien and of the secrets, and enemies of its people.

We had settled in Wichita, Kansas, then Bayfield, Colorado, after Bentley found a report in the newspaper about strange, possible alien sightings in the area.

Bayfield, Colorado was where we were finally able to stay for a long time. I was almost thirteen when Number Two was killed. I was sleeping when the second scar burned into my ankle, directly above the first. I screamed so loudly, as this one hurt almost three times as much as the first.

My door shot open almost instantly and I looked up to see Bentley looking down at me, his eyes were red with sleep, and even though he had just woken up, he had one bag already over his shoulder.

We left the next morning, burned all of our papers and important documents, and started a new life in our fourth home. Colby, Wisconsin. We settled into our new home, and Bentley enrolled me in the local school.

"So what's my name?" I asked him as I read over the handbook for Colby High school. I would start as a Freshman in the fall.

"Jack Prescod," Bentley said with a bit of pride in his voice. "What do you think?"

"I like it" I responded, trying to get used to the new name.

I was in my room one night when I heard Bentley scream. I ran down the steps to see the edge of a Scout's arm pulling Bentley out the door. He put his finger to his lips and mouthed the words "Stay here" behind it.

I didn't care. "No!" I screeched in an angry voice, running after the scout. It pushed me back and continued dragging him forward. It didn't try to kill me. Why didn't he kill me?

"Bentley!" I cried out, but they were gone in a second of my scream. That's when the third came. The third scar bubbled into my flesh, and my head was mixed with sadness and pain.

When the pain ended, I was still crying. I needed Bentley. He was like my father. I didn't know what to do next, so I sat down on the grass and closed my eyes.

I woke up three hours later with a throbbing pain in my forehead. I stood up dizzily, and walked inside. I packed my bags and walked into Bentley's room. The Loric Chest sat on his bed.

My legacies had not yet come, but I remembered something Bentley had said about it only opening when we both touched it, unless he was dead. Then I could open it by myself.

I pulled myself together, and held out my shaking hands. I grabbed the lock with both hands, and squeezed it hard.

I tried not to even think about what it meant when I felt the lock, but I couldn't help it.

End of Chapter One


	2. Chapter 2: Alone and Running

Chapter Two: Alone and Running

A sense of worry and relief flowed through my body. The lock remained closed. I was so relieved that Bentley was alive, but I knew that he was most likely being tortured by that scout, and maybe others.

What confused me most was that the scout had not tried to kill me. I knew I should be dead. The whole reason Bentley and I have to keep running is because I am wanted dead.

There was barely anything in his room except the Loric Chest and his laptop. I grabbed everything of importance, and dragged it out to Bentley's car. I stared at the car with uncertainty. I had no idea of how to drive, but I knew I had to attempt it.

Having not even the slightest idea of where I was going, or how I was going to survive this trip, I stuck the key into the ignition, and turned it until the car started. I guess I decided to keep the current identity I had. No one knew me anyway. Bentley would have laughed at me if I had said that to him.

I tapped the gas pedal and jerked backwards, sending everything flying forward in the car. I eased it down slightly and turned the wheel. I managed to make it onto the main roads and started driving down the freeway towards Illinois. I didn't want to go far because my main priority was to find Bentley before he was killed.

Somehow I made it to a small town on the northern tip of Illinois called Bull Valley, where I decided I'd stay for a while. I took some money from Bentley's wallet and walked into the first hotel I saw, after trying the Loric Chest's lock one more time. Thankfully, it was still locked.

I approached the front desk to find a man smiling at me and saying, "Welcome to The Valley Hotel" in a proud, salesman-like voice.

"Hi." I started awkwardly, trying to sound older than I was. "Can I have a room please?"

"Sure!" He began once again, proving that they must go by an honor system in such a small town. "That'll be fifty a night. When do you plan on checking out sir?"

"Uh, I'm not sure. I'll at least stay a couple of nights." I was still trying to pass as at least eighteen, but there was no way I looked it.

I took my room key and went to get my things from the car. I covered the chest with my sweatshirt, and left it in the car. I only took my bag, and Bentley's laptop.

I started combing through the internet, checking every possible lead to the whereabouts of my Cêpan. I found seven different stories of "alien" sightings in the Midwestern area. I picked through them all, but each one had an alibi for not being the one I was searching for.

I stood up and angrily hit the wooden wall. My knuckles were bruised. It made me even angrier.

I started looking through the history on Bentley's laptop. He had cleared most of the searches for stories about me, after we were forced to leave each of our homes, but there was one web address that kept popping up over and over again. It was a long string of random letters, but it was the same each time.

I opened the link in a private browser, which meant that it was protected from being seen if the laptop were to be searched. It was a private blog.

"Are you out there?" It read in bold black letters across the top. The number eight was commented underneath the title. This was Eight, trying to communicate with us.

The number ten seemed to type itself into the comments, and then delete itself as well. I couldn't. Eight would take down the site, thinking I was a Mogadorian, or at least someone who had figured out some information about the Garde. To anyone else, Number Ten doesn't exist. I don't exist.

Leaving this in the history of the laptop was not like Bentley at all. He was usually so much more cautious about what he searched.

The phone started ringing in the hotel room.

I should not have answered it.

I did.

"Ten?"

The End of Chapter Two. Thanks for reading


	3. Chapter 3: The Call

The Call

I nearly dropped the receiver, but caught it as it fell. It sounded like Bentley, but he wouldn't call me Ten on the phone unless something was majorly wrong.

"B-Bentley?" I stuttered in complete and utter shock. I started to say his name again, but there was a click and the call ended.

Without thinking, I hit the redial button on the phone. It clicked twice, and then went to a dead tone. I was filled with fear once again. I sat on the bed, and sighed. I'm barely fourteen; I have no idea of what I am supposed to do now.

I had absolutely no way of knowing where to go next, so I decided to sleep, and think about it in the morning.

When I woke up, the room was cold and dark. I stood up and walked over to the window where the thermostat was. I turned it up four degrees and started to pace the room.

I decided to search through his computer history again, trying to recover everything that had been moved to the recycling bin. Some of the things on his laptop were password locked, but that wasn't too hard to figure out. I typed in all the pass codes that I could think of for Bentley until one worked.

A black page popped up along with three other popup windows around the screen. The black page loaded completely. I watched as the words scrolled across the screen.

"FIND THEM!" Those were the first words.

"ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, FIVE, SIX, SEVEN, EIGHT, NINE, ?." The numbers came one by one across the screen. The numbers one through three were crossed out. That was probably because they are dead.

Why were there question marks after nine? I am completely hidden. I think. They didn't try to kill me. They only took my Cêpan. That makes no sense. The Cêpan aren't usually taken, the Garde are the ones who are killed.

Is it possible they thought Bentley was me? No, the Mogadorians know better. They are smart and skilled.

The three popup windows finally loaded. The first was a list of the possible whereabouts of each Garde. I was listed there. Even though I knew it was Bentley's list, I made my heart race thinking about the fact that our possible locations were easy enough for me to find. An intelligent creature with ten times my skill level could most likely find it in a second.

The second was a chat room. Messages started loading from a previous conversation that must have been had between him and someone named Crayton. It was coded, and parts of it were in Loric. I could only make out some of it, but I recognized some of it. My name, along with the name Ella, was mentioned several times.

When the name Ella was first brought up, Bentley replied asking who Ella was.

"Ella is Number Ten." It was written in Loric, and took me about five minutes to decipher. I know some Loric, but only some very basic words. I have seen it enough times to be able to make it out.

"No." That was the response.

"What do you mean?"

"Jack is Ten." That was next, also in Loric.

This conversation went on for a long time more, both sides arguing over whose Garde was Number Ten. How is it possible that there are two?

"Am I Eleven?" I whispered out loud in pure shock, starting to question everything about my identity. I wanted to message Crayton; ask him why he thinks I am not Number Ten.

Everything was so confusing. I clicked on the third popup window, wincing before the screen even popped up. I was so scared already.

"THE TRACK ARE COMING!" The words glimmered in a brilliant white throughout the dark room. The Track?

I immediately opened up a new window on the computer. I typed into the search engine "Who are the Track?" Before the links came onto the screen, the word RUN flashed onto the page.

The only link that came close to anything I was looking for was a news report. I clicked the link.

In bold letters, the title filled half the page. **THE TRACK ARE COMING! RUN! HIDE! **

I started to read the article, and then I heard the slow and heavy knock on the door. I needed to hide!

Thanks for reading again! This one wasn't as long as I had hoped for, I'll try to make them longer. THANKS!


	4. Chapter 4: Caught

Caught

Call it paranoia, call it stupid, call it really whatever you want, but before you do, remember one thing. I have been running all my life. I have never known someone who can convincingly tell me that everything will be ok. I have been trained to hide at the sound of a knock on the door. That knock could be the end of my life; though I doubt a Mogadorian would knock before killing me. I have somewhat of a protective barrier around me; unless it has already been broken, I can't be killed before the rest. We must be killed in order. It is broken only when two Garde meet in person.

I crept along the wall to the door and peeked through the peephole on the door. I sighed and laughed at myself slightly before opening the door.

"Hello." I stated it very calmly and coolly, as if I hadn't been so worried only a second ago.

"Mister Prescod?" The man from the front desk asked.

"That's me!" I laughed, saying it like a joke.

The man's face didn't show even the slightest bit of humor as he spoke. "You need to come with me."

"And why is that?" I asked him, humor leaving my voice as I stared him up and down.

"Please do not question me," he sighed, anger tensing his cheekbones. "You have a visitor. He was QUITE insistent."

"Who is it?" I asked, refusing to leave my room.

"I do not know his name Mister Prescod, I only know that he asked for you, and has threatened to report our business to the bureau for extreme lack of service, unless I return with you." He looked very agitated, and stepped closer to my door.

"Well, for security reasons, I'm afraid I can't come out right now." I smirked and started to close the door.

"Fine," the man puffed, stopping the door and grabbing my arm.

I gave in and just walked with him to the front desk. I man in a gray sport coat and khakis greeted me there.

"Hello Jack," he said in a chilling voice. He stuck out his hand. "Nice to meet you."

I took his hand and shook it. That was a mistake. Two men in black suits came up to me and pulled my hand behind my back. I had somewhat seen this coming, but was still angry.

I scowled at the man in the gray coat as he spoke to me. "I'm sorry Mr. Prescod, but I doubt you would have come willingly.

I kicked him in the shin. That only got me some rope around my legs. The two men picked me in like a child and started carrying me out to the large white van parked in front of the hotel.

The back doors of the van were opened up, and one of the black-suited men hopped in to the trunk. He returned from the trunk with a pocket knife in his hand.

"Don't hurt him!" yelped a pained voice from the trunk, as they cut the ropes that bound my hands.

The trunk took up the back half of the large van, and was separated from the front by a carpeted wall. I was tossed into the trunk with a thud, and the three men climbed into the front.

"Jack?" the voice from before called to me.

I didn't respond. I was in pain, and when they had been cutting the ropes from my hands, they had missed, stabbing my back instead.

A lighted popped on above my head, and I opened my eyes slightly. Bentley's hands were tied to the handles on the roof of the car, and his face had many cuts and bruises on it.

I scooted up against the wall of the car with a groan, and started to untie his hands.

"Hey." I said. Making it a joke despite the current situation, as I worked to get the tight knot out of the rope.

"Hey." He said back. "What did you do?"

"Me?" I asked, shocked. "I didn't do anything. Why did you just get taken in the middle of the night by a scout?" I had so many questions lined up for him.

"I must have been monitored online by someone. They must have thought I had some important information."

"Yeah, who's Ella?" I asked, finally getting the first knot done, and watching as his arm fell limply to his side.

"Smart." He said. "Checking my internet history? How'd you guess the pass codes?"

I started the other knot as he tried to flex his stiff arm. "Am I Ten?" I asked bluntly.

"Of course you are." He said, looking at me with compassion.

"Then who is Ella?"

"Most likely, Ella is Eleven. Since no one remembers you from that day, and it wouldn't make sense for the numbers to be Eight, Nine, Eleven, I'm sure she just took the name of Ten. She is young. She won't remember anything from the ship anyway. She was even too young to be assigned a Cêpan. Crayton is her unofficial Cêpan."

I finished untying the last knot, and Bentley wrapped his arms around me. I hugged him too. Suddenly I realized how much my back hurt, and I tensed as the pain spread through my lower back. Bentley looked me in the eyes and asked me what happened.

After explaining how I had been stabbed, and Bentley yelling something in Loric towards the front of the van, he had me show him where I had been injured.

I pulled my shirt off, and sat down in front of him. Bentley gasped when he saw the wound.

"Is it bad?" I asked, worried.

"No, not too bad." I could feel his fingers gently tracing the outline of the wound. "It's long, but not too deep."

I lay down on my side and used my T-shirt as a pillow. I was so happy to see Bentley alive and with me again.

"So you managed to travel?" He asked.

"I knew you'd think it was wrong to stay…" I was cut off by the sound of the front doors opening.

I hugged Bentley one more time before the doors were opened. I slid up against the side of the car again, wincing in pain as I did so.

Bentley had whispered something to me when I hugged him. A plan, I suppose. We were going to try to escape.

End of Chapter Four! Thanks for reading!


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